


Choose to Bend

by BeepGrandCherokeeper



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Hank, Cock Rings, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Ken Doll Android Anatomy | Androids Have No Genitalia (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 18:56:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20644052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeepGrandCherokeeper/pseuds/BeepGrandCherokeeper
Summary: Connor was feigning disinterest, even as his eyes roved over Hank slowly, like a meal he was looking forward to devouring. They could pretend that all this torture was for Hank’s benefit, and they would for a while longer, but that facade would come crashing down soon enough.





	Choose to Bend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Molias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molias/gifts).

> For Mo @robofingering on twitter!

“Baby,” Hank moaned, flexing his thighs under the flat of Connor’s palms. “You’re killing me, I can’t—”

Connor hushed him, running his hands down to just above Hank’s knees and up again, against the grain of coarse hair. His dermal layer pulled back and left plastic behind, almost cool against the sweaty heat of Hank’s skin, but it did little to soothe Hank at all. He suspected that was Connor’s intent.

“You can,” Connor said. “I know you can. You’ve been good for me before, and you can be good now.”

Hank panted. He ached, toe to tip, physically and emotionally. Arranged as he was, he couldn’t rock backward onto the vibrating attachment settled between his legs. His cock strained uselessly towards the ceiling, trapped in a blue ring that kept him from finishing until Connor decided it was time. His hands, bound together behind his back, opened and shut like that would help anything. Worst of all, Connor watched him like he was completely removed from the situation, like it didn’t matter that Hank wanted him more than he’d wanted anything in his entire life.

It was all part of the game, though. Hank recognized the glaze in Connor’s eyes. He was trying _ so _ hard.

They’d been playing as early as their movie date a few hours ago, when Hank thought he was taking Connor to see the latest two-bit action flick. What he was doing, instead, was bringing his husband to a dark room where that husband decided he was going to put his hand in Hank’s lap, squeezing the meat of his thigh.

“Jesus,” Hank had said, starting so violently that he knocked the bag of popcorn off his knee.

Connor made a soft shushing sound, but he left his hand where he’d set it.

Hank wasn’t one for public displays of… not affection, but arousal. He liked kissing Connor where people could see, where he could show off how proud he was to have the partner he did. Holding Connor’s hand, pulling him into a hug, watching his LED flicker yellow when Hank called him pet names loud enough for the bullpen to hear - it was all good. Great, even. But their private life was private, behind closed doors, and Hank thought that was good, too.

Somehow, though, he found he didn’t mind. Connor kept up a steady knead, almost like a cat, manipulating his skin through his jeans until Hank wondered whether he should excuse himself to the bathroom before the lights came up. About twenty minutes before the end of the movie, Connor made that decision for him. He pulled back and resettled himself into his own seat, leaning over the space between them only to rest his head against Hank’s shoulder.

“The hell was that?” Hank whispered.

All Connor did was smile, his teeth a quick flash in the dark.

Connor didn’t smile now. He was feigning disinterest, even as his eyes roved over Hank slowly, like a meal he was looking forward to devouring. They could pretend that all this torture was for Hank’s benefit, and they would for a while longer, but that facade would come crashing down soon enough.

“Look at you,” Connor murmured, moving his hands higher. He pretended his trajectory was toward Hank’s cock, but they both knew better. At the last moment, he spread his fingers and palmed at the weight of Hank’s stomach. “It’s good to lose control, isn’t it? To let someone else take care of things.”

A quick series of blinks was Hank’s only warning before Connor’s detached dick — one of their favorites, a simple snap on/snap off model with wireless connectivity — began to vibrate harder. Hank dug his nails into his hand and breathed sharply through his nose, teeth clenched. Connor noticed, of course. He noticed everything. Reaching up, he carded his fingers through Hank’s beard.

“You’ll give yourself a headache.”

Hank relaxed his jaw with a wrench of effort, letting his mouth fall open. “Connor, please—”

Using his leverage on Hank’s stomach, Connor pushed Hank backward just a hair. No doubt he’d calculated the trajectory. It settled the dick at another angle inside him, just enough so that it pushed against his prostate.

Hank _yelled_. He screwed his eyes shut, bit his lip, strained his muscles against the nylon tying his arms together, and he pushed his belly back against Connor’s hand in his attempt to squirm away. It was hard to hear himself over the whine and white noise between his ears, but he thought he was frantically saying something. It might have been Connor’s name, but it just as easily might have been begging, or complete empty-headed nonsense. Connor didn’t seem to care what it was. He kept him in place, utilizing that android strength even with just one arm, and he smiled at Hank indulgently. As tears welled up in Hank’s eyes, love poured out of Connor’s.

“It’s all right,” Connor said, passing his thumb over Hank’s chin. “You’re almost through.”

True to his word, he blinked again. The vibrations decreased in speed and intensity, rumbling quietly through Hank’s insides just barely enough for him to feel it. Connor’s dick still nudged up against his prostate, though, an exquisite torment every time Hank flinched or trembled with residual shockwaves. He was becoming almost insensate, out of his mind with the need for release. He’d settle for any kind, now, whatever Connor decided to give him.

Connor was right. It was very good to give up control. Even as he shook, as his arms pulled against the rope, he felt unbelievably free.

“This,” Connor said, taking the hand that anchored Hank and sliding it up to the middle of his chest, “is how you make me feel. Every day. I’m overwhelmed by you, and in agony for you to touch me like I want to touch you.”

Hank huffed. It was all he had the energy to do, and if it came out with the edge of a whine, they thankfully both pretended it hadn’t.

“You make me feel…” Connor sighed. He inched closer, shuffling on his knees across the bed until their legs were pressed together. Hank leaned into him, pressing his naked, sweat-damp torso against Connor’s unbuttoned dress shirt. Connor obliged him with a hand in his hair. “You make me feel safe. Taken care of. I like when I can give that back to you.”

Hank’s tongue was heavy when he finally moved it, croaking like he’d had a cold for two weeks. “Love you,” he said. That was freeing, too.

“I love you,” Connor replied. He brushed the hair away from Hank’s temple and kissed him there. “And I think we’ve done enough for one night.”

Hank felt his heart jump at the thought that Connor would leave him like this, needy and on the verge. Connor probably saw that, too. He rubbed a few circles into Hank’s scalp, scratching gently, and reached down to fit his fingers around the silicone ring.

“Fuck,” Hank groaned.

Connor was careful, so careful that he didn’t brush Hank’s neglected dick at all as he slid the cock ring from its place and discarded it on the bed. Hank felt almost light headed as his circulation adjusted, as Connor put his hands back on Hank’s thighs and leaned into him harder. 

There was no warning this time before the vibrations picked up. They weren’t as aggressive as before, but with Hank’s sensitivity it was more than enough to have him coming in almost no time at all, spurting up between them and landing on their stomachs, on Hank’s legs. Connor talked him through it, whispering praises, still running a hand through his hair, kissing under his eyes when a tear leaked free.

Later, when Connor had untied his arms, put the wireless dick back in its box, and wiped him down, Hank managed a weak, “Thank you.”

Connor took Hank’s hand and pressed his lips to the center of it, giving him a look equal parts sincere and — after all this — vaguely predatory.

“Any time,” he said.

Exhausted as he was, Hank thrilled a little at how clearly Connor meant it.


End file.
